Abba's Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging by Brennan Manning & Ron Bennett

Abba's Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging by Brennan Manning & Ron Bennett

Author:Brennan Manning & Ron Bennett [Manning, Brennan & Bennett, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Spirituality, Non-Fiction, Religion, Inspirational
ISBN: 9781576833346
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 48812
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers
Published: 1994-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


One of them happened when I was in a bar at an airport at an unlikely hour. I went there because I hate flying and a drink makes it easier to get on a plane. There was nobody else in the place, and there were an awful lot of empty barstools on this long bar, and I sat down at one which had, like all the rest, a little menu in front of it with the drink of the day. On the top of the menu was an object—and the object turned out to be a tie clip and the tie clip had on it the initials C.F.B., which are my initials, and I was actually stunned by it, just B would have been sort of interesting, F.B. would have been fascinating, and C.F.B., in the right order—the chances of that being a chance I should think would be absolutely astronomical. What it meant to me, what I chose to believe it meant was: You are in the right place, the right errand, the right road at that moment. How absurd and how small, but it’s too easy to say that.

And then another one was just a dream I had of a friend that recently died, a very undreamlike dream where he was simply standing in the room and I said: “How nice to see you, I’ve missed you,” and he said, “Yes, I know that,” and I said: “Are you really there?” and he said: “You bet I’m really here,” and I said: “Can you prove it?” and he said “Of course I can prove it,” and he threw me a little bit of blue string which I caught. It was so real that I woke up. I recounted the dream at breakfast the next morning with my wife and the widow of the man in the dream and my wife said, “My God, I saw that on the rug this morning,” and I knew it wasn’t there last night, and I ran up and sure enough, there was a little squibble of blue thread. Well again, either that’s nothing—coincidence—or else it’s just a little glimpse of the fact that maybe when we talk about the resurrection of the body, there’s something to it!5

In reading the Celtic Chronicles years ago I was struck by the clear vision of faith in the church of Ireland in medieval times. When a young Irish monk saw his cat catch a salmon swimming in shallow water, he cried, “The power of the Lord is in the paw of the cat.” The Chronicles tell of the wandering sailor monks of the Atlantic seeing the angels of God and hearing their song as they rose and fell over the western islands. To the scientific person they were only gulls and gannets, puffins, cormorants, and kittiwakes. “But the monks lived in a world in which everything was a word of God to them, in which the tenderness of God was manifest in accidental signs, nocturnal communiques, and the ordinary stuff of our pedestrian lives.



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